First
by Lord Death's Paramour
Summary: She nearly always understood him, but it seemed that she could never quite see the "I love you" in his eyes.


**A/N: **I unabashedly ship Longshot/Smellerbee. I only wish there was more out there! To all who have contributed to this cache, rock on!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own "Avatar: the Last Airbender." It is the property of Nickelodeon, etc. It's use here is for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infrigement is intended.

* * *

The first time he saw her, she was a dirty, defeated little girl. Jet had heard that the Fire Nation had struck again, a nearby village; they should go and see what could be done. Longshot knew this translated into, "We should go and make sure there aren't any Fire Nation soldiers still around." He had nodded silently, as was his wont.

By the time they had arrived, there was nothing left but smoke and ash. After a semi-thorough scan had produced no remaining soldiers, they had split up to search for survivors who might be recruited to the cause. The village was small; after a few solemn minutes of searching, he was ready to give up and find Jet so that they could move on. Then he heard it.

Quiet crying, coming from the creek in the direction he'd searched first. Less sensitive ears would have missed it. Bow drawn as a precaution (after his experiences, he'd be a fool to not be wary), he silently walked back to the water.

At first, he thought the small child scrubbing at skinny, ash-covered arms was male. Even from the back, he could tell the child was even younger than him. Lowering his bow, he intentionally made noise as he approached so as not to alarm him; he'd noticed the small dagger just within reach. But then, he turned around and Longshot could tell that "he" was actually a "she." Tears coursed down the small, pointed face as dark eyes took him in. Her hair had been burned off; the charred and jagged edges didn't quite meet small shoulders. After minutes of silence, he almost startled when she finally spoke.

"I ran. How could I have done that?" The voice was small and husky, as if she had inhaled a lot of smoke.

He shrugged slightly, silently asking, _Did you have a choice?_

"I don't know," she whispered. "That's what bothers me."

* * *

She hadn't said anything more. She'd simply stood, dagger in hand, and looked at him expectantly. So he led her to Jet once he'd located him. The leader had appraised her silently. Noticing the weapon, he'd asked, "Are you any good with that?"

Before Longshot could even blink, she'd hurled the knife into a tree quite a distance away. Jet had raised an eyebrow admiringly.

"Not bad. How would you like to join the Freedom Fighters? We've all been hurt by the Fire Nation. We make them pay for it." Almost as an afterthought, he'd added, "I'm Jet, and this is Longshot." He nodded in the direction of the boy beside him.

Longshot watched as she walked off toward the tree where she'd thrown her dagger. After retrieving it, she walked back to where the two older boys stood, waiting.

"I'm in," she'd answered softly.

On the way back to the camp, Jet asked her for her name.

"I don't have one anymore."

"That's understandable. How about... Smellerbee?"

She shot Jet a glare.

"Hey, it's a good name. Bees are small and dangerous. There's even some red face paint you can use."

She shrugged, mollified, and that was how Jet introduced her to the rest of the group when they finally made it back: "This is Smellerbee. He's joining us. He's lethal with a knife."

Longshot's eyes widened slightly at the mistake; wasn't it obvious that she was female? He waited for her to correct the error and was even more surprised when she didn't. Later, when it was only himself and the newest fighter left around the fire, he raised an eyebrow in question.

"It's easier if everyone thinks I'm a boy. Less complicated. They'll never respect my skills otherwise." She pursed her lips. "You won't tell."

He wondered at the fact that she phrased the last as a statement rather than a question, but he found himself shaking his head in agreement all the same.

* * *

Four years passed. Although he rarely uttered a single word (a last resort when words failed), they had somehow become friends. Although she had become more outspoken over the years of living with a group of teenage boys, she never seemed uncomfortable with his silence. A glance or a shrug was almost always enough to let her know his thoughts.

As she became more comfortable around him, she gradually told him of her life before joining the Freedom Fighters whenever they were alone together. She never knew her father. Her mother, her only relative, had died when she was six, forcing her out into the street. She'd lived there for four years before the Fire Nation came. An elderly woman had been the source of the only kindness she'd received by giving her food whenever she could spare some. She had tried to get to her before the fire had but had not succeeded.

It was while relating this that the tears began to come. He had not seen her cry since that day by the creek, so long ago. Before he fully thought about it, he pulled her into his lap and put his arms around her. He half expected her to pull away and was relieved when she threw her arms around his neck and began crying quietly into his chest.

He gulped. So far, he had been mildly successful at squashing the feelings that had been cropping up lately. He may have been taciturn, but he wasn't stupid; he knew what these feelings were. He exhaled softly and clutched the girl tighter.

"How do you understand me so well?" she mumbled.

He stroked the hair she'd never allowed to grow back out. _How can you not know what I'm feeling?_

_

* * *

_

A few weeks later, he was shaken awake by a hysterical Bee.

"Longshot, please wake up!"

He sat up suddenly and reached for the bow he always kept beside him. His expression said, _Whom do I need to shoot?_

At his questioning look, she rushed out, "We're not under attack. Everyone's fine. It's me! I'm bleeding!"

Ah. He'd been expecting this.

Replacing the bow, he quietly explained to her what she needed to know about her body and its changed. He'd had an older sister. Before the fire and scars.

She was quiet when he finished. He stood up and gestured for her to do the same. Grabbing one of his few spare tunics on the way out, he led her away from the camp. They walked in silence for a while until they reached the pond they used as both a water source and a bathing spot. Handing her the tunic, he walked a few feet away to wait; close enough to hear her if something happened.

A few minutes later, she emerged, hair wet and carrying her soaked (but now clean) clothing. Again, they walked in silence. A glance in her direction showed her blushing face glancing in any direction but his.

Her blush became even more pronounced the next day as she understood the implications of his handing her the chest plate he'd procured.

* * *

They'd had some strange people wander through their camp, but the Avatar was just about the last person Longshot ever expected to see. But nonetheless, he'd shown up accompanied by a boy and girl who were obviously siblings (and obviously Water Tribe). He almost laughed at how easily Jet charmed the girl, Katara. For a while after their arrival, he'd worried that Bee would be jealous over the amount of attention Jet showed the girl, but he had noticed nothing unusual about her behavior. (This he noticed with blatant relief).

Although the girl had been won rather easily as an accomplice in Jet's plan, Ponytail resisted and tried to convince her and the Avatar to abandon it.

It wasn't until after it was all said and done that Longshot realized the Water Tribesman had been right.

Bee gently gripped his forearm and said softly, "Jet went too far this time, didn't he?"

Seeing the people in front of him who no longer had homes because of them, he whispered, "Yes."

* * *

After Jet had finally unfrozen from the tree, he'd been given the ultimatum.

"You know what we did was wrong, Jet," Bee said while he stood beside her, arms crossed. "We've got to get out of here. It's just the three of us now. Pipsqueak, the Duke - everyone left. We'll go to Ba Sing Sei. We'll start over."

Jet had hung his head, as in defeat, and they'd packed their meager belongings and set out.

Although she'd been pretending to be a boy for years now, he could tell it had hurt her when the old man, Mushi, had confused her gender. At Longshot's insistence, she had finally broken down and told Jet a few weeks ago. Although the former leader of the Freedom Fighters had been shocked beyond words at first (and even more shocked at the fact that Longshot had known all along), he'd quickly gotten over it. Now, it was as if he'd known all along.

He didn't really understand how anyone could confuse her for a boy any longer. Before, she'd been small and her body absent of any curves. She was still small, but lately he'd noticed changes in her body. Slight changes; he doubted even she'd noticed them. But they were there. Her hips now flared slightly, enhanced by her tiny waist. And her upper half...

The habit of sleeping together had begun back in their forest days, during the time when it was almost too cold to sleep alone. He'd simply been jostled awake one night to find her climbing into his pallet beside him. He certainly wasn't going to complain about the extra warmth. Or about having her in his arms. After she'd started wearing the chest plate, she would remove it every night before sleeping. At first, it had not been a huge difference from the Bee of before. But then, her breasts had started to develop, and it nearly drove him wild...

Now, it was simply torture. Though by no means large, they were there. He knew she had no idea how hard it was for him to sleep with them pressed against his chest every night.

Jet, however, was not so easy to fool. All he had to do was smirk in Longshot's direction to gain a reaction. The returned scowls just made Jet laugh even harder.

* * *

"I thought he had changed, Longshot. But he hasn't. He's acting just like before because of Lee and Mushi."

He couldn't disagree with that so he just shrugged his shoulders and tried not to let her see how worried he was.

* * *

It was hard after Jet disappeared, but it was even harder after he died.

He and Bee had followed the Avatar and his companions to Lake Laogai. Jet had fallen. Although he was acting nonchalant about his injuries and putting on a show for the others, Longshot could tell he was hurt badly. Most likely internal bleeding and who knows what else. Jet didn't deserve to die like this. He'd done a lot of bad things in his life, but he was still a good person. No, he didn't deserve this. No one deserved this.

It was obvious that Longshot had surprised the others when he spoken up and told them to go, that they'd care for Jet. Jet tried to reassure them that he'd be fine.

As the Avatar and his friends walked off, he heard the blind girl say softly, "He's lying."

* * *

They stayed with him until he died. Bee had cried softly and stroked the hair of the boy who might have been misguided but who was the closest thing to a father she had ever known. Jet had smiled and closed his eyes. He didn't open them.

They managed to drag him out of there. Longshot kept expecting guards to swarm them at any moment, but luck must have been on their side. Night had fallen when they finally made it out, and Longshot left Bee standing guard while he procured a shovel.

She picked out the tree they buried him under, this girl who wasn't a girl any longer. After it was done, they stood there for a moment, hand in hand, and cried a silent goodbye for their leader.

A few days later, as they wandered the streets and tried to decide what to do next, Longshot could resist it no longer: he stopped and gently grabbed her arm so that she would stop too.

"What's wrong?" His Bee looked concerned.

With years of pent up feelings, he pulled her to him and placed his lips upon hers.

He knew he was grinning like a fool when he pulled away a minute later. Almost expecting her to hit him, he looked down to see her exasperated smile.

"What took you so long?"

* * *

By some miracle, he managed to find them a small apartment. It barely merited the term, but it was theirs. They kept afloat by working the small, odd jobs that surfaced every so often. It wasn't the easiest living, but every time Longshot saw Bee's smile, it was all worth it.

She nearly always understood him, but it seemed that she could never see the _I love you_ in his eyes.

* * *

The first time they did more than kiss, he was injured as a result.

Unable to stop himself, he'd gently stroked the underside of one breast while kissing along her jaw. Her head came up so hard that she nearly broke his nose.

He groaned and shot her a look: _What was that for?_

"I'm sorry, you just surprised me. It... felt good, though." Her cheeks pinkened.

Eyes widened, he immediately tried it again, head held slightly back in case he surprised her again.

Later that night, he repeated the action.

Her eyes closed, lips slightly parted, and he began to react to the sensation of _finally _being allowed to touch her like this.

Experimentally, he cupped one breast, and when she instinctively arched into his hand, he groaned and felt himself harden.

Her eyes flew open. "Longshot, are you okay? Did I break your nose?"

In answer, he took one small hand and placed it in his lap.

Her dark eyes widened and her mouth made an "o." He whispered, "That's what you do to me."

She blushed and stared over his shoulder but didn't remove her hand even when he removed his. After a minute of this (with him fighting not to push up into her hand), she finally queried softly, "Do you love me?"

His look was incredulous, disbelieving, and annoyed all at once. _Are you seriously asking me a question that you already know the answer to?_

She looked ashamed. "Well, I just wanted to be sure." Hesitant and unsure, she looked to him for guidance. "What do we do next?"

Slightly disappointed that she hadn't said that she felt the same, he pulled her gently onto his lap, moaning softly at the contact. Slowly, he began to tug her shirt upward, giving her ample time to object if she wanted to. Still blushing slightly, she raised her arms up and allowed him to remove the garment. She started to cover herself but then let her arms fall to her sides and waited.

He knew he was gaping but was unable to stop. She was better than he'd imagined. "Beautiful," he breathed, causing her to huff and pull at his own shirt. Obligingly, he removed it, and pulled her against his bare chest, kissing her fiercely, the sensation of having Bee bare and sitting on his throbbing erection causing him to groan into her mouth.

When she hesitantly began moving her tongue against his, he lost it and pulled her hips tighter against him, thrusting up slightly. The whimper she made nearly sent him over the edge. When she pulled away for air, he slid her off of him and stood to remove his trousers. Dropping them to the floor to retrieve later, he moved beside her and met her dark gaze. Never looking away, she eased back onto her elbows and slowly began to inch her trousers over her hips. After a second of this, he reached over and tugged them off.

"Impatient," she whispered.

"You have no idea."

"This has got to be the most you've ever spoken at once." He smiled and began to kiss her jaw.

She shivered and confessed, "I'm scared."

He raised up and stroked her face. _Me too._

After a few more kisses, he gently nudged her legs apart and entered her, eyes rolling back in his head at the feeling of himself inside her, claiming Bee.

"Ow," he heard and looked down to see tears running down smooth cheeks free of their usual paint.

Determined to stay still, he kissed every place a tear touched. His heart nearly broke when she asked, "Does it always hurt like this?"

He shook his head. When he could take it no longer, he slowly started to move. At first, she winced; but at a deeper thrust, she inhaled sharply.

Wanting her to make that sound again, he increased the thrusts and stroked a breast reverently. Her breathing sped up. Unintentionally, he slightly changed the angle of his entry and heard her whimper a moment later as she began to contract around him. A few thrusts later, he emptied his seed inside of her and barely avoided collapsing on top of her, instead falling at her side. He pulled her into her arms and stroked her slightly grown-out hair.

She was crying softly against his chest while he did so and mumbled, "Does it always feel like that?"

He shrugged, content. How would he know? It had been his first time.

"I didn't know it would. I thought it would be awful." She sighed.

Pulling them both up slightly, he reached for the ratty blanket and tugged it over them. Bee tucked her head between his shoulder and neck and threw her arm over him.

* * *

The fear he'd felt the day the Fire Nation had destroyed his village and killed his family paled in comparison to the fear he felt the day he discovered that Smellerbee was burning up with fever. For once, he was afraid for himself too: how would he live without her?

They was no money for a doctor; they barely made enough for food. All he could do was take worn cloths dipped into cool water and bathe her brow.

She slept a lot. Every so often, she would cough or sneeze, but mostly she just shivered. Not sure whether to keep her warm or cool, he settled for the cool cloths (which were changed as soon as they warmed on her feverish skin) and climbing into bed beside her to share his body heat.

Internally, he'd beg, _Get better, Bee. You can't stay sick._ _Don't leave me alone here. I can't lose you, too._

Never having much experience, he had no clue how sick she was, if people died of what she had or if she'd be better the next day. When she wasn't better the next morning, the fear intensified. Loathing the feeling of helplessness, he dribbled water and weak broth down her throat. Waited. Repeated the process. Finally, at a loss, he settled beside her and held her.

He didn't realize that he'd fallen asleep until he was woken by movement to his right. A glace in that direction showed a sweating Bee trying to extricate herself from the ratty quilt she'd been covered with.

This had to be good, right? That she was no longer shivering? Relief swept over him and he clutched her to him and muttered, "I love you, silly girl."

"Longshot," she groaned. "I don't feel so well. Put me down."

His small smile said, _Sorry_, and the happiness in his eyes was obvious.

She sank back down and closed her eyes. The quiet "I love you, too" had him jerking his head down to look at the small girl who had come to mean everything to him. His heart quickened in his chest and warmth spread through him at finally hearing her tell him.

He reached out and entwined their fingers. "Just remember who said it first."

* * *

A cup of Iroh's tea to anyone who can spot the (non-Avatar) movie line in here.


End file.
